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I wanted to get pregnant. I wanted to be a mother. Even as a very young girl I knew that someday I wanted to have kids and that want never once left me. As a teenager I realized that one of the worst things that could happen was to be the sort of mother to my own children that my mother was to me. I knew girls my age who where pregnant or had been pregnant and were now mothers. I knew that I was not ready and that I needed to do a lot of work to be ready so that I could break the cycle of abuse that had been going on in my family for countless generations.

I used to read everything I could find about pregnancy, babies, kids and parenting. I would watch anything on t.v. that was about being a good parent. I talked to parents about how they raised their kids about what was hard and what they enjoyed most.

Eventually I fell in love with a very nice man and discovered that some of the childhood abuse that had happened to me made it physically impossible to be intimate in certain ways. I also discovered that I had sever P.T.S.D and that relationships where very challenging for me. I found a therapist but she did not know how to help me and she did not know how to tell me that she could not help me. Eventually I found a therapist who seemed like she could help me but her style was very bad for me. Eventually though I did find a therapist and she helped me immensely.

I started to change from a survivor of incest, neglect and various other forms of abuse into something beginning to resemble a thriver. I found a good doctor and was able to get some very specific treatment so that my body could do things that all female bodies normally can do. The man in my life around this time felt that he was ready to become a father and asked me if I wanted to have a baby. I think we where both a bit shocked at how easily I became pregnant and I spent my entire pregnancy very nauseous but also extremely happy because I had worked so hard and had come so far and I knew my baby would grow up feeling loved and being treated with respect and that I could keep my child safe in the ways that I should have been kept safe. Now my son is almost 5 and he is thriving.